Words of love…


There are words we kiss,
As if they had mouths
Words of love of hope,
Immense love, crazy hope

Naked words that kiss you
When the night loses taste,
Words that refuse,
The walls of your sorrow.

Suddenly, colorful,
Between words without color,
Expected, unexpected
Like poetry, love.

The name of the beloved,
Revealed letter by letter,
On discarded marble
On abandoned paper.

Naked words that kiss you,
When the night loses taste,
Words that refuse,
The walls of your sorrow.


Há palavras que nos beijam,
Como se tivessem boca,
Palavras de amor de esperança,
Imenso amor, esperança louca

Palavras, nuas que beijas,
Quando a noite perde o gosto,
Palavras que se recusam,
Aos muros do teu desgosto.

Derrepente, coloridas,
Entre palavras sem cores,
Esperadas inesperadas,
Como a poesia, o amor.

O nome de quem se ama,
Letra a letra revelado,
No mármore distaído,
No papel abandonado.

Palavras nuas que beijas,
Quando a noite perde o gosto,
Palavras que se recusam,
Aos muros do teu desgosto.



Words of love, passing over my tongue
Coming to me from you, and returning to you
If it is your will, and you are the only one who wills,
The lover will be where your splendor manifests
When he submits to you
When you love your slave
You become his beloved
And raise his station



 كَلامُ حًبٍّ عَن لِساني عابِرُ
مِنك أتاني وإليك راجِعُ
لَقد شِئتَ وأنت وحدك تَشاءُ
فالعاشق مجلاك حِين يَخضَعُ
عِندَما ُتحبّ عبدَك فتَصيرُ
معشوقه ومقامه ترفعُ

Source: http://adabarabiqadim.blogspot.com/


I began by mentioning my love…

 Legend has it that Shushtari’s master gave him a tambourine and made him sing in the market for his money (probably as a way of teaching the young nobleman humility).  He kept repeating the first line of this song over and over again, unable to come up with anything else, until inspiration struck, and the rest of the verses came pouring out. This, his first composition, has been sung ever since…






I began by mentioning my love
I fell head over heels, life sweetened
A wonderful secret revealed

When the cup goes round
all those sitting together
their souls are revived
and troubles leave them

Pouring the cup of true happiness
God forgives whatever is past

Drink up my friend, and be glad
Live in the peace of the beloved
that I won through a wondrous mystery

Empty the glasses, drink them all up
Enrich yourself in the state of the saints

Lightning brightened the sanctuary
God forgives whatever is past

Oh Saki, take pity on us
The master forgives our sins

Pour wine out for us
and bless us with peace
For we are mad with love
Just like the noble saints

Open for us the vast expanse
God forgives whatever is past


Original (slightly different from the recording above):

بَديتْ بِذِكرِ الحبيبْ            وهِمْتُ وعيشي يطيبْ
               وبحتُ بسرٍ عجيبْ
لمَّا دارَ الكاسْ                   ما بيْنَ الجُلاَّسْ
أحْيَتْهُم الأنفاسْ                عنهُم زالَ الباسْ
سقاهُمْ بكاسِ الرِضى           عفا الله عما مضى
اشربْ يا نديمي وطِيبْ         وعِشْ في أمانِ الحبيبْ
                 قد فزتُ بسرٍ عجيبْ
قم خَلي الكاساتْ              واشْربْ بالطاساتْ
واغتنم لذَاتْ                 في مقامْ ساداتْ
بُريق الحِمَّا قد أضا             عَفا اللهُ عما مَضى
يا ساقي ترفق بِنا                المولى غَفَرْ ذَنْبَنا
اسقِنا مُدامْ                    وانعَمْ بالسَّلامْ
ونحن هيامْ                  مَعْ ساداتٍ كرامْ
وَوَسِعْ علينا الفضا              عفا الله عما مضى


Andalusian Love Songs: Shushtari and Camaron (part 2)

You who took my heart from me, your love stole my senses
You hid me from myself, and in myself, I don’t appear
I’m hidden form my sight, as if I were invisible
So I went out to look for me, maybe I’ll find myself…
Love of the beautiful, o brother, is my art
and my drink is from my own flask


يا  مَن  أخَذْ  قَلْبي   مِنِّي        هَواكَ               هَيَّمَني
حجَبْتَني              عني        بِيَّا       فَما         أظْهَر
وغِبْتُ     عن       عيْني        كأنِّي      لم       أظْهر
فَصِرتُ           أطلُبني        لَعلَّ      بِي         أظْفَر
عِشْقُ المليحْ يا صاحْ فَنِّي        وشُرْبي     مِنْ        دَنِّي



I live in love

Take me with you because I cannot find myself outside of your love

I live in love and for me your kisses
are like the source of my thought

Take me with you because I cannot find myself outside of your love

At dawn, I feels she calls me
like a whirlwind, she wakes up my soul!
I want you to feel as I feel,
to call me during the night in your dreams
to be like the tree which gives you shelter
when you need the shade (x2)

Take me with you because I cannot find myself outside of your love
Chorus x 2

God brought you with Him.
I ask you when
I will go to heaven (x2)
so I may kiss your lips

I love you, I do love you
I am a prisoner of your love (x2)

Translation from: http://lyricstranslate.com/



Que me lleve contigo porque ya no me hallo
fuera de tu cariño…

Yo vivo enamoraO y para mi tus besos
son como la fuente de mi pensamiento

que me yeve contigo porque ya no me hallo
fuera de tu cariño…

Y al amanecer siento que me yama
como un torbellino despierta mi alma!
quiero q sientas como yo siento
y q me yames de noches en sueños
Ser como el arbol que te acobija
cuando la sombra la necessito( x2)

que me yeve contigo porque ya no me hallo fuera de tu cariño

Dios q te yevo con él.
yo le pregunto a usté cuando
me va a subir a los cielos(x2)
para besarte tus labios

Te quiero yo a ti te quiero,
de tu cariño soy prisionero(x2)



The one I love visited me before morning
and made lovely my shame and infamy
He made me drink and said: “sleep and relax
there’s no sin for the one who loves us.”
So pass round the cup, you whom I love and adore
Adoring whom I love is the essence of righteousness
If you poured it for the dead, they’d return to life
It is the joy and repose of the spirits


زَارني من أُحب قبل    الصباحِ        فَحَلالي   تهَتُّكي     وافتِضاحِي

وسقاني   وقال   نم    وتسلَّى        ما عَلى مَن  أحَبَّنا  من    جُناحِ

فَأدِر كأس  من  أُحِبُّ    وأهْوى        فَهوى من أُحِبُّ  عَين    صَلاحِ

لوْ  سَقاهَا   لميِّت   عاد     حَيًّا        فَهي  راحى  وَراحة     الأرْواحِ

Andalusian Love songs: Shushtari and Camaron

The poems of the Andalusian Sufi, Abu’l-Hasan Shushtari (d. 1269) parallel and perhaps indirectly influenced some of my favorite Flamenco lyrics.  Compare this pair of songs:


Your love for me is not a fantasy

However much they forbid that I love you,
like a jib to the water I will resist.
Only your tender love I would have for company
I wanted to give you more and more I’d give you,

Because I know that without you I won’t live,
because wherever you are I will follow,
that’s why I love you and dream of you.

Your love for me is not fantasy,
the memory hurts me every day,
I am of your love that abandons me,
and loved me and wanted me.

You and I on the blanket,
you and I under the moon,
your dark eyes were glistening
reflecting the tenderness

A love looks strong,
my heart,
if my eyes didn’t look at you
every day

You were something that goes and never comes
and clear was your farewell and clear was my sorrow.
Without your love, I only love the earth
without your love, two minutes is one day,
that’s why I love you and you take my life.

I would like to hear the voice of the wind
that brings the sighs that you give,
your sorrows are like mine,
like the waves of the ocean

Your love for me is not fantasy,
the memory hurts me every day,
I am of your love that abandons me,
and loved me and wanted me

Translation from: http://lyricstranslate.com/


Tu amor para mi no es fantasia
Por más que a mí me quiten que te quiera
como el foque al agua remetiera
sólo tu amor tendré por compañera
que más te quise dar y más te diera,


Porque sé que sin ti yo no vivo,
porque donde tú estés te persigo,
por eso te quiero y sueño contigo.


Tu amor para mí no es fantasía,
me duele el recuerdo cada día,
soy de tu querer que me abandona,
y me quería y me quería.


Tú y yo sobre la manta,
tú y yo bajo la luna,
brillaban tus ojos negros
reflejando la ternura.


Fuerte mira un amor,
sentrañas mías,
si no te vieran mis ojos
todos los días.


Fuiste algo que pasa y nunca llega
y claro fue tu adiós y clara mi pena.
Sin tu amor sólo a la tierra quiero
sin tu amor dos minutos es un día,
por eso te quiero y me quitas la vía.


Quisiera escuchar la voz del viento
que trae los suspiros que tú das,
tus penas son como las mías,
como la oleá del mar.


Tu amor para mí no es fantasía,
me duele el recuerdo cada día,
soy de tu querer que me abandona,
y me quería y me quería.

My neglect of you is reprehensible, your love is obligatory
my longing is everlasting, and union is elusive
On the tablet of my heart, your love has been marked
my tears are the ink, and beauty is the writer
The reader of my thoughts constantly recites
lessons on the signs of the beautiful one
My gaze wanders in the heaven of your beauty
its penetrating star pierces my mind
Talk about others, listening to that is forbidden
for all of me is stolen and your beauty is the thief
They said to me: repent of loving the one you love
so I replied: I repent of my neglect
The torments of love are sweet for every lover
even if, for another, they are hard and never-ending


Translation modified from: L.M. Alvarez. Abu’l-Hasan Shushtari: Songs of Love and Devotion. p. 55



سُلُوِّيَ مكروهٌ وحُبكَ واجبٌ               وشوقِي مقيمٌ والتَّواصلُ غائبُ

وفي لوح قلبي من وِدَادكِ أسطرٌ            وَدمعي مِدادٌ مثل ما الحسن كاتبُ

وقارىء فكري لْلمحَاسِن تالياً               على دَرْس آيات الجمالِ يواظبُ

أُنَزِّهُ طَرفي في سماء جَمالكمْ                    لِثاقب ذِهني نَجمُها هو ثاقبُ

حَديثُ سواكَ السمع عنهُ محَّرمٌ                    فَكُلِّيَ مسلوبٌ وحسنكَ سالبُ

يقولونَ لي تبْ عن هوى من تُحبُّهُ                 فقلتُ عن السلوان إِنِّيَ تائبُ

عَذابُ الهوى عذبٌ على كل عَاشِق       وإِن كان عندَ الغير صعبٌ وواصبُ

Deep Songs from Spain

A collection of some lovely Flamenco lyrics

The sighs that come from me
and those that come from you,
if they meet on their way
what things they will say!

Suspiros que de mí salgan
y otros que de ti saldrán,
si en el camino se encuentran
¡qué de cosas se dirán!

If blood were sold
you’d be rich and I’d be poor—
you have in your veins
both yours and mine.

Si la sangre se vendiera,
fueras tú rica y yo pobre,
porque tienes en tus venas
la que a mí me corresponde.


If being fond costed money
you would owe me a lot;
but since it doesn’t,
you don’t owe me, I owe you not.

Si el querer bien se pagara,
mucho me estabas debiendo;
pero como no se paga,
ni me debes ni te debo.

With the pain of not seeing you,
I am living on earth.
And if I am not dead,
then nobody will die of heartbreak.

Con la pena de no verte
estoy viviendo en la tierra:
cuando no me muero yo,
nadie se muere de pena.


I must punish
the eyes of my face
for looking with affection
on someone who doesn’t care.

A los ojos de mi cara
los tengo de castigar,
porque miran con cariño
a quien mal pago les da.

I wrote it to you crying,
I sent it to you crying.
The tears from my eyes
didn’t let me see it.

Llorando te la escribí,
llorando te la mandé;
las lágrimas de mis ojos
no me la dejaron ver


I must be buried
sitting when I die
so that you can say,
‘He’s dead but waiting for me.’

He de mandar que me entierren
sentado cuando me muera,
para que puedas decir:
—Se murió, pero me espera


I don’t know what it is
about the cemetery flowers,
but when the wind rustles them
they seem to be crying.

No sé qué tienen las flores
que están en el camposanto,
que cuando las mueve el viento
parece que están llorando.


Lyrics and translations from M. Smith & L. Ingelmo. Cantes Flamencos:The Deep Songs of Spain




The Gypsy Saeta

Said a voice from the crowd:
“Who will lend me a ladder
to climb the wooden cross
so as to remove the nails
from Jesus of Nazareth?”

Oh, the Saeta, the song
of the gypsy Christ
always with bloody hands
for ever ready to dismantle (the Cross)

Song of the andalusian town
where every Spring
people come asking for ladders
so as to climb the cross.

Song of my homeland
where flowers are thrown
to Jesus in his death throes
and is the faith of my forefathers.

Oh, no, this is not my song
I can’t sing it, nor do I want to
to the Jesus on the Cross
rather to the Jesus who walked on water!


La Saeta gitana

Dijo una voz popular:
¿Quién me presta una escalera
para subir al madero
para quitarle los clavos
a Jesús el Nazareno?

Oh, la saeta, el cantar
al Cristo de los gitanos
siempre con sangre en las manos,
siempre por desenclavar.

Cantar del pueblo andaluz
que todas las primaveras
anda pidiendo escaleras
para subir a la cruz.

Cantar de la tierra mía
que echa flores
al Jesús de la agonía
y es la fe de mis mayores.

¡Oh, no eres tú mi cantar
no puedo cantar, ni quiero
a este Jesús del madero
sino al que anduvo en la mar!

Lyrics and translation from: http://lyricstranslate.com

The name “Allah”


Alif before double lam
and Ha-the delight of the eye
Alif proclaims the name
with two lams without body
and Ha is the sign of the writing
“Secret” is spelled with two letters.
There is a name with no place.


Read these letters together.
You will see by them, the heart is satisfied
and forgets its past trials
and advances, flanked on both sides
by two delicate mysteries


My passionate love became public
Dawn appeared after my night
and I became a light for existence
a sun between two moons:
I know not where I am


My most pious love means
to be annihilated in Him as a slave
and truly, in annihilation, I vanish
for the finding is between two losings
and life is in two deaths


My darling, the one I passionately love
my spirit’s sustenance when I die
Fearing separation I sing:
When, o apple of my eye,
Will I find union without place?


Translation from L.M. Alvares. Abu al-Ḥasan al-Shushtari: Songs of Love and Devotion.  p. 90

ألِفٌ       قَبْل       لاَمَيْنِ        وهَاءُ      قُرةُ         الْعَيْنِ
ألِفٌ      هوتُ        الإسْمِ
وَلاَ مَينِ    بِلاَ      جِسْمِ
وَهَاء      آيَةُ       الرَّسْمِ
تَهَجَّى     سِرَّ       حَرْفَيْنِ        تَجِدْ    إِسْماً    بِلاَ      أيْنِ
حُروفٌ     كُلُّهَا       تُتْلَى
تَرضى الْقَلْبُ  بهَا    يُجْلَى
ويُسْلاَ   بَعْدُ    ما    يُبْلَى
ويَدْرَجْ     بينَ        كَفنين        بِرَمْزَيْنِ            رَقِيقَينِ
غَرامِي في الْهَوَى قد باح
وفَجْرِي  بَعد  لَيلَى     لاَحْ
وصِرْتُ للْوُجُودِ    مِصْباح
وشَمْسِ     بينَ       قَمَرَيْن        ولاَ   أدْرِي   أنا      أيْنِي
فَمَعْنَى    حِبِّي       الأتْقَى
بأن    أفْنَى    بِهِ       رِقَّا
وأفْنَى   في   الْفَنَا      حَقَّا
فَوَجْدُ      بَيْنَ         فَقْدَيْنِ        وحَياةٌ     في        فَنَايينِ
مُنَائِي   مَنْ    بِه    هِمْتُ
وقُوتُ   الرُّوحِ   إِنْ     مُتُّ
وخَوْفَ    الْبَيْنِ      أنْشَدْت
مَتَى    يا    قُرَّةُ      الْعَيْنِ        نَجِدْ   وَصْلاَ   بِلاَ      أيْنِ

Shushtari in Song

One of the most powerful recordings of Sufi music, this medley of Shustari’s poetry begins with the following poem:


They are my sweetest moments
when you are joined with my essence


When you are with my essence
The sun of intimacy dawns in me
My poverty came to me naturally
And existence has emerged and man sees
All of existence, all of it from my parts


They are my sweetest moments
when you are joined with my essence


O faqir, listen to what you should do
Put youself above the universe
There is nothing more beautiful from you


Cut off separations
and understand the mysteries
Enter the field
and see the past and the future


They are my sweetest moments
when you are joined with my essence


أطْيب    ما    هِ       أوقاتي        حين تَكن مجموع مع    ذاتي
حين    تَكُن    مع     ذاتِي
شمسُ  أنْسِي  مِنِّي     تطْلُوعْ
ويَجيني    فَقْرِي     مطْبُوعْ
والْموجُودْ       قد       بَان        ويَرَى                 الإنْسان
جَميعْ                  الأكوان        كُلَّها      مِن         جُزئِيَّاتي
أطْيَب    ما    هِ       أوْقاتي        حين تكُون مجمُوع مع ذَاتي
يا  فَقير  اسْمع   ما     تَعْمل
تِهْ   على   الأكْوانِ     وادّلَل
ليْس  ثمَّ  شَيْ   منَّك   أجْمل
واقْطَع                الأغْيار        وافْهم                 الأسْرار
وادْخُل               الْمِضمَار        وتَرَى   الماضِي      والآتي
أطْيب    ما    هِ       أوْقاتِي        حينْ نَكُن مَجمُوع  معْ    ذَاتي


Then at around the 2:00 minute mark it switches to the following poem, recorded in full here by the Ensemble Ibn ‘Arabi:



 The slave to love is well-pleased with his madness.
Let him wear out his life even as he will.
Reprove him not; your blame will nothing serve:
Forsaking love is not his religion.
I swear by him for whom ‘Aqīq is mentioned–
a lover’s oath by his beloved—none
But ye are mine; yet have I to repent me
Remissness in loving, waveringness.
Why, when I hear the dove coo in the glade,
Why yearn I ever at his sorrowing?
And though his way is weeping without tears,
When the lover weeps, the tears pour from his eyes.


translation from Martin Lings’ Sufi Poetry: A Medieval Anthology p. 88


رَضِيَ المتيم في الهوَى بجنُونِه        خلُّوه   يفَنىّ    عُمرَه      بفُنونِهْ
لا  تعْذِلوهُ  فليْس  ينْفعُ    عذْلُكم        ليْس السُّلوُّ عن الهوَى من   دينهْ
قسَماً بمن ذُكرَ العقيقُ من   أجلِه        قسَم   المحِبِّ   بحبِّه      ويمينهْ
مالي  سواكم  غير  أنيِّ    تائبٌ        عن فاترات  الحبِّ  أو    تلوينِهْ
مالي  إِذا  هتف  الحمامُ  بأيْكةٍ        أبداً   أحِنُّ   لشَجْوِه     وشُجونهْ
وإِذا  البكاءُ  بغير   دمْعٍ     دأبُهُ        والصَّبُ  يجْري  دمْعُه    بعُيُونهْ

Shakespeare, Shushtari, and the Sultan

Sonnet 29

When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

-William Shakespeare



O you present in my heart
Thinking of you, I am glad


If she doesn’t visit my eye
then my heart replaces it


I have not vanished, but my body
is wasting away from weakness


The blamer did not find me
and no watchman sees me


If fate had known me
the people would have come to me


Nothing remains except love
ask it, and it will answer for me

-Abu’l Hasan Shushtari


يَا حاضِراً في    فُؤادي        بِالفكرِ    فِيكمْ      أطيبُ
إِنْ لمْ يزُرْ شخصُ عيني        فالقلبُ   عِندي     ينُوبُ
مَا  غِبتُ  لَكِنَّ    جِسْمي        من   النُّحول      يذوبُ
فَلمْ    يَجدْني      عذولٌ        وَلاَ    رآنِي       رَقِيبُ
وَلوْ دَرَى  الدَّهْرُ    عَنِّي        جَاءت   إِلىَّ      شعُوبُ
لَمْ   يَبْقَ   غَيْرُ     غَرامٍ        فَسَلهُ    عَنِّي     يِجُيبُ




Translation of Lyrics:

Strumming the strings of his guitar,
Strumming the strings of his guitar,
A Sultan complained of his Queen.


Two wells of stars, your black eyes,
And a moonless rose, your black hair,
Your black hair, your black hair,
Two wells of stars, your black eyes.


The rosemary bush smells of your body,
The rosemary bush smells of your body,
No jasmine on earth is more tender
No jasmine on earth is more tender.


Although a powerful king, I am a beggar,
Although a powerful king, I am a beggar,
If I lack the flames of your love,
Of your love, of your love,
If I lack the fire of your love.


Do not mess with me anymore,
Do not mess with me anymore,
Because you know too well
Because you tease me
Because you tease me.



Rasgueando las cuerdas de su guitarra,
Rasgueando las cuerdas de su guitarra,
Un sultán se quejaba de su sultana.


Son dos pozos de estrellas tus ojos negros,
Y una rosa sin luna tu pelo negro,
Tu pelo negro, tu pelo negro,
Son dos pozos de estrellas, tus ojos negros.


A mata de romero huele tu cuerpo,
A mata de romero huele tu cuerpo,
No hay en la tierra mora jazmin mas tierno
No hay en la tierra mora jazmin mas tierno


Siendo un rey poderoso soy un mendigo,
Siendo un rey poderoso soy un mendigo,
Si me faltan las llamas de tu cariño,
De tu cariño, de tu cariño,
Si me faltan las llamas de tu cariño.


No te metas más conmigo,
No te metas más conmigo,
Porque de sobra tú sabes
Que tú roneas conmigo,
Que tú roneas conmigo.


The wine was so fine…

The following was one of Ibn ‘Arabi’s favorite verses of poetry, oft-quoted by Sufi authors ranging from al-Ghazzali to Fakhr ad-din ‘Iraqi to Emir ‘abd al-Qadir to explain the mysterious relationship between God and the heart.



The glass was so clear, and so was the wine
they became so similar, that it became unclear
Whether there was wine and no cup
Or a cup and no wine

-Ṣaḥib ibn ‘Abbād



رقَّ الزجاجُ وَرَقَّت الخمرُ          وَتشابها  فَتَشاكل     الأَمرُ

فَكَأَنَّما  خمرٌ   وَلا     قَدحٌ          وَكَأَنَّما  قَدحٌ   وَلا     خمرُ


As Junayd famously said,

The colour of water is the colour of its vessel

لون الماء لون انائه

Compare with my own humble meditation on this theme:


If you see cup and wine as two, you haven’t drunk enough
In this tavern, we drink love’s molten glass, served by the cup


And when the sparkling wine is swirled and left still to breathe well
That’s just the glass-blower whispering his secret sculpting spells


Not only does this wine redden cups’ sweet cheeks and their lips
Its pouring gives them lovely shapes and their bright translucence


The heavens are but spinning glasses cast from frozen wine
How strange that they all seem to fit within this cup of mine


Inside my glass, last night, I saw your face, mingling with mine
In drunken clarity, I sipped myself in your outline


The fine lines of your lips are just the rippling of this wine
And so we drink and kiss ‘till I can’t tell what’s yours from mine


Last night, I got so drunk I sold my soul for cups of wine
I’m back to see what I can get for my body this time


My heart’s the secret flask of that most thirsty of madmen
Who drained the wine, drank the dry glass, then downed the whole tavern


Bilqis thought our way was water, but soon learned this glass held wine
Sulayman’s tricked many spirits into these bottles of rhymes


Though everyone loves wine’s bouquet, who likes the drunkard’s belch?
Be quiet, hold your drink, and keep its secrets to yourself.

Hafez on Ramadan



 In the month of Sha’aban, do not neglect the glass of wine
This sun will disappear untl the ‘Eid of Ramadan



ماه شعبان منه از دست قدح کاین خورشید                   از نظر تا شب عید رمضان خواهد شد


 Come back and be the dear friend of my squeezed heart
Be the intimate of the secrets of this poor love-crazed one
That wine which they sell in the tavern of love
Give me two or three cups and say “It’s Ramadan!”


               بازآی و دل تنگ مرا مونس جان باش
وین سوخته را محرم اسرار نهان باش
                    زان باده که در میکده عشق فروشند
ما را دو سه ساغر بده و گو رمضان باش


That wine of love which ripens the immature
Although it is the month of Ramadan, bring me a cup of it


                      زان می عشق کز او پخته شود هر خامی
گر چه ماه رمضان است بیاور جامی